


Y is for Yearning: I Get Off On You (Getting Off On Me)

by JadedWarrior



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Carrying, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Martial Arts, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, working out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:47:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26666194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadedWarrior/pseuds/JadedWarrior
Summary: Y is for Yearning!Ben knows the shy neighbor watches him do Martial Arts forms from her third story window. And since she insists for him to train her at the gym down the street, he thinks she may not be so shy after all. Too bad she only wants him for his body...
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 13
Kudos: 93
Collections: House Dadam A-Z Kink Collection





	Y is for Yearning: I Get Off On You (Getting Off On Me)

**Author's Note:**

> Who wouldn’t yearn for Ben doing martial arts forms.. shirtless?
> 
> Title is from Halestorm’s amazing song “I get Off” which inspired the fic.

The first time had been an accident. With the evening breeze so crisp after the heat of the day, Rey left the blinds open to enjoy the cooling air while she worked with her desk against the window.

The second time, and granted, the subsequent times, were much less innocent. Who could resist watching a beautiful man coiling and snapping kicks and puncheswithdangerous control? And if she happened to stare at him instead of the code on her screen, certainly she was allowed to take a break and yearn, just for a moment?

And maybe she called herself a creep, but she still didn’t close her blinds. And holy-god neither did he, because she had been certain he had seen her after bowing at the end, his open palm meeting his closed fist, and those dark eyes looking up directly at her window.

Rey held his gaze—although who knew if he actually saw her? Nevertheless, she didn’t dare move, not a muscle, hoping the laptop screen obscured most of her face. Probably for the best anyway, since men like him with gorgeous hair and big muscular frames tended to enjoy partners of equal hotness value.

And Rey, with her office-jock softness and nerd-girl glasses certainly didn’t fit his type.

 _“So do something about it,”_ Rose had told her after dragging out an admission that she was pining for someone unattainable. _“Trust me, you’re hot. But you’re not gonna meet anyone if you spend twenty four seven working.”_

True enough, although at this point, she didn’t want to meet anyone else, and stalking this guy didn’t seem right. But Rey Niima didn’t wallow and since sitting on her ass twenty hours a day wasn’t doing anybody any good, she signed up for personal training at the gym down the street.

If nothing else, it would get her out of the apartment and stop pining after a beautiful unattainable man.

For now... she watched him stretch. With dark pants and nothing else on that tall muscled frame, he leaned into a series of stretches, those gleaming muscles caressed by deep crimson light from somewhere in his room.

Rey couldn’t see anything of his surroundings.

Just him.

He seemed to take up the bulk of space seen through his window. That dark hair sometimes would fall over his eyes and soften the intensity of what otherwise would be described as brutal features. Brutal save for his mouth—soft, sensual lips. More brutality in the breadth and strength of his chest and shoulders, a body of man who’d give it you exactly as you wanted it and have you scream for more.

Despite the looming deadline, she lightly... accidentally...touched herself. Just... there. Just to relieve the ache between her thighs.

After all, she was only human. And while battery operated toys were nice enough, sometimes she thought about....

What was he doing? Holy-God, was he taking off his pants?

He did.

And at the sight of those pale legs akin to tree trunks, firm and muscled like the rest of him, she touched herself again. And then he moved a few steps to the window and—holy god, even across the alley he seemed huge—his cock beautiful and hard directly in her line of sight.

She had to look away, but couldn’t. Couldn’t make herself focus on the code.

Nothing but him.

Yearning for him.

And since her window was a floor above his, she could see everything as he sat cross legged on the floor, hands on his knees, closing his eyes.

Meditating?

She was getting hot and bothered by some naked stranger meditating?

She really needed to get a life.

But more... she didn’t need to watch him. Not when his fist closed around his dick, pumping himself slow and almost lazy, the rhythm somehow... teasing.

As if on their own accord, her fingers pressed deeper, and Rey leaned back and matched her rhythm to his.

Slow. Almost languid.

When he sped up his motions, so did she, when he slowed down, she groaned and did the same. Like he was teasing her. On purpose.

And when he spilled into his hand, she gave a little cry and bucked against her fingers, wishing he would be there, whispering to her.

She must’ve lost track of time because when she finally lifted her head, dark curtains obscured him from her sight.

***

“Would you be joining any of our group classes? We have Zumba, Aerobics, martial arts.”

“Martial arts?”

The beautifully muscled man assisting her with paperwork—Poe Dameron from his name tag—gave her a small smile, no doubt relieved he finally touched on something that perked her interest.

“Uh.. yeah. We just added those—kickboxing, bag work. Nothing tradition since we aren’t a dojo, but a good work out. Would you want to sign up? Give it a try?”

So far, Rey wasn’t interested in anything but weights, since those had the best chance of building a second-glance posterior. And she did sympathize with Poe trying to get her hooked into the gym’s offerings outside of training. They needed patrons to keep coming back.

So far, she pretty much hated everything.

“I’ve been curious about martial arts,” she finally said, and self consciously, pressed her thighs together. Although, martial arts or not, the big and breathtaking man occupying her thoughts would be completely out of her league.

“I can get you scheduled for our group classes. The trainer—“

“Oh. Gosh.” Time to play the sweetheart. You always got your way with a sweet smile on your lips. “You know, group classes... I don’t know what it is, I’m so weird. I just get so uncomfortable. So many people in your bubble.”

Some people had brass balls. Some charm. Rey got where she needed through sweet smiles and occasional bouts of “broken wing”.

Ends justified the means.

And in the male dominated field of web development, clients and techs who otherwise would pat you on the head and automatically dismiss you, would fall all over themselves try to help the shy girl.

“Oh. I see. Completely understandable. You did say that. I’m sorry.”

Sometimes, Rey had to play hardball and really put her badass panties on. But for the most part, she used her own shyness as a weapon.

“You can’t remember everyone you’ve talked to. But.. gosh, I don’t mean to be a problem.I was just really hoping for private instruction.”

He nodded, at this point earnestly trying to help.

Nobody wanted her romantically, but help a sweetly smiling broken wing? That was her power.

“I’m so sorry, because of liability issues, I don’t have anyone certified to do personal training in martial arts. You can understand how—“

She tilted her head and gave him a very sweet confused smile.”Didn’t you say you have a new instructor?”

“Well sure...”

“Then wouldn’t they have the qualifications?”

“Of course they do, but...”

She went in for the kill. “Honestly I’m so terrible about working. When you said martial arts it was the only thing remotely interesting. I get so bored with yoga, and the treadmill I can do at home in front of the tv.”

To her stunned surprise, he laughed, which was completely unexpected. As if he saw right through this whole charade. “You know... I think you’re absolutely right. I’ll set you up with Ben—I think he’ll be perfect.”

For a short second she allowed herself to hope. But a Ben wouldn’t radiate that dark dangerous menace she could all but feel emanating from her neigbor. A Ben wouldn’t be scarred—yes she was a creep looking at him hard enough to tell he had a scar bisecting his cheek.

A Ben would no doubt shut his blinds instead of putting on a show for his thirsty-as-fuck neighbor.

“His last class is at six, so if you want to be here by seven, that would be fantastic. He lifts too, so sounds like a perfect fit.”

Was there a smirk the way he said a perfect fit? She kept the tiny smile of agreement—as if this had been his idea—while Poe clicked and pecked over the keyboard.

“Thank you.” She got her way and that was all that mattered. Rey scraped and saved and pushed and she usually exactly where she wanted to be.

Her web app business. Her degree. The way she clawed her way out of Jakku. Guts underneath that sweet sweet smile, and nobody but Rose knew most of the times, those smiles were completely fake.

And now, she wanted a bod a man like her neighbor would find attractive. She’d get that too with enough time.

And if a part of Rey whispered a man wasn’t worth the trouble if all he wanted was an equally hot bod, Rey did what she did best. She simply didn’t listen.

“Great timing, let me introduce you. Ben?”

“Yeah?”

She turned toward that deep melodic voice and...

No.

She had to be hallucinating.

These things didn’t happen.

Beautiful neigbours who practiced martial and jerked off while being watched didn’t suddenly appear to become your private personal trainer.

“Um.” She said.

She had a masters in Computer Engineering.

She had a number of novellas under her belt (Kiralo fan fic of course.)

She had been asked to present at tech conferences.

All she could manage was a single, “Um.”

“Rey here browbeat me into selling your services.”

She bit her tongue to keep herself from stammering. Then again, she bit her tongue as a way to keep herself from drooling.

Is this what they called eye-fucking? He had no right to look more beautiful up close.

_Ben._

Later, she would say his name out loud, see how it would taste over her tongue.

His scar somehow amplified the angular beauty of his face, hisdark hair swept back from that high forehead. She could spend hours kissing the constellations of dots over his pale skin, dots that extended lower, over his neck and bare arms.

Clad in dark workout pants and equally dark shirt that left his thick arms bare, he towered over her, that intense gaze making her knees go weak.

He didn’t say a word.

Just glared.

Ben.

“Yeah?”

She didn’t realize she spoke his name aloud.

“Um.”

Eyes akin to charcoal watched her humiliate herself. And as her heartbeat pulsed inside her ears, Rey tried to keep any expression off her face even as heat suffused her skin.

Of course she blushed.

Of course she did because she must done something in her past life for Universe to hate her.

“Um.” Again with that? “Rey.” _Fuck._ She probably blushed deeper. “I’m Rey.”

“I... see.” A world of meaning. Did he know? If he did, was he embarrassed? Disappointed?

“Rey here’s your seven o’clock. Personal training.”

A frown marred his forehead. “I don’t do—“ He stopped himself. “Okay.” No recognition in his eyes. No.. expression at all. Just the same intense glare.

Did she want him to recognize her? _Hey, you’re the girl who’s watching me across the street? Do me a favor and invest in curtains?_

She needed to get out of there before she embarrassed herselffurther. “Well, see you at seven!” And knowing both of them could see the red flush rising of her cheeks, Rey escaped.

***

“You’re welcome.”

“What?”

Poe nudged him with his elbow. “I said you’re welcome. Maybe Rey will get you over this chick you’ve been pining over. She’s certainly your type.”

“My type?”

Repeating something in a question kept his cousin from noticing Ben staring after her as she ran out the door.

His brave shy bird found him.

He fucking couldn’t believe it.

He’s been contriving for weeks some sort of idiotic non-stalker-creepy ways to meet her and that sweet thing took reins into her own tiny hands.

Gods she was cute.

Fucking adorable with glasses on that pert little nose and dark hair clipped back into three buns that left her delicate neck bare.

A shy little bird who watched him nearly every night from her third floor window, her laptop glaring against her glasses.

The first time he had been sure was just an accident. She didn’t seem the type.

To his delight, her blinds stayed open. And then... last night. Ben didn’t know what possessed him, but he hasn’t come that hard in months.

Then again, this was the closest to female company he’d gotten since he left the Service.

“Yeah, your type. Hides under shyness but a real go-getter. And you’ve always had a thing for tiny chicks. Maybe she’ll get you out of that mood.”

“I can’t do anything if I’m her trainer.”

“Rules can be bent, especially if you’re part owner.”

“That doesn’t sound creepy at all.“

“I’m just saying. If you two hit it off, I won’t have to worry about picking you ass up from another dive bar.”

“I said I was sorry.”

His cousin shrugged. “I said I would, didn’t I? I’d much rather you call.”

New job. New life.

New Ben, no longer Kylo.

He took a few minutes before entering the classroom and started the session Poe termed Solo’s Kicking Torture.

Good for the glutes.

Good for his heart.

Good for him to bark encouragements and orders and not think of a little shy bird watching him from above.

And since he wasn’t a creep and had no intention of spooking her, he made sure to school his features as soon as seven ‘o’clock hit and she entered the mirrored classroom as all the others filed out.

“Rey.”

Great, he started off sounding like a smitten idiot. She gave him a tight little smile in return.

“Hey.”

The glasses were gone, although Ben couldn’t see her eyes because she looked down at the floor. She wore what he supposed counted as causal work out gear, the large GalaxyWar tshirt bagging over her slender frame and sliding off one shoulder, her subtle curves and strong lines all the more alluring.

A part of him wanted to break the charadeand simply ask if she wanted to leave. With him. Coffee. A movie. A long fuck in his bed.

He’d need to take time with his shy bird, she’d probably be tiny everywhere. He’d certainly need to prepare her, with his mouth, with his hands and—

“Poe mentioned you lift as well?”

He jerked out of the fantasy.

“Sorry?”

She still wouldn’t look at him as she mumbled the words.

“Poe said you lift weights?” Her gaze raked over his biceps then hit floor again.

She liked his body? He knew he was lumbering behemoth, especially after the military and the training from.. well, he didn’t need to think about Snoke. Not anymore.

And while women flocked to him, most of them might as well have put a bag over his face.

Fuck it all, he didn’t care. She watched him get off, but wouldn’t look him in the eye? Not his problem if couldn’t stand the scar splitting the mug at best called ugly.

“Why don’t we start with your goals?” He crossed his arms over his chest, knowing the gesture made him seem larger, more intimidating.

Her eyes widened, but even as she flicked a glance up at him, she didn’t back down.

“My goals?”

He wasn’t watching that pink little tongue run over those pretty lips. “Why start working out?”

“I.. ah... I want to get stronger. Get some... bulk.” She shrugged, the tshirt collar dipping lower over the erotic curve of her shoulder. Why did she have to have freckles?

Why were freckles to hot?

“Bulk,” he said softly, teasing, and for a second, those startled eyes met his, wide with panic, and the blush on that delicate little face had blood rushing down to his cock.

“I want to add more muscle to my frame.” she said, and squared her shoulders, pushing those perfect little breasts into the fabric of that ugly shirt.

Too bad she couldn’t even fucking look at him, although that obviously didn’t stop her for thirsting over his fucking tank of a body.

“You don’t need me for that.”

Did she just flinch?

“Kicking is great for overall posture”, she said, all prim. “The bodybuilding will help— ”

“You want a better ass. I get it.”

And maybe that was harsh.

Actually that was fucking rude, maybe even disgusting. But if she sought him out, gave him hope, made him fucking come so hard only to turn away because he was a fucking monster, didn’t he deserve at least a chance to have some fun?

“We’ll start with lifting first. Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

Again those hazels flickered up at him, then down.

And since she didn’t back down—he had to respect that she didn’t let him scare her off—Ben led her to the free weights, selecting five pounders to start.

“I can take more then that,” she said, her eyes still down, and his cock once again tried to harden despite the low grade anger brewing in his gut.

He didn’t think her the type for innuendo. Then again, she watched him come last night.

She wanted to play?

Fine. He would play.

“Bend your knees and stick out your ass. Hold the weights and squat down.”

Sure, he could get his hands on her right now. In fact, it would be expected to make sure the client didn’t hurt themselves.

Or maybe he wanted to see how far she’d go.

She simply frowned at him with those doe eyes, subtly side-eyeing his reflection in the mirror. That’s what she did, wasn’t it? Watch him?

“Good. That’s right, like you’re sitting down.” He nearly added a _good girl_ , and wondered if she’d blush again.

For now he concentrated on her form, on those small hands gripping the dumbbells. She wouldn’t be able to get those slender fingers all around his cock, and even as he pictured that, Ben wondered why the hell he kept on torturing himself.

“Good. That’s good.” Maybe he lowered his voice.

Maybe he liked seeing her shiver.

She hasn’t blushed again.

“Go down and up as slowly as you can.”

Her gaze flickered to his, as if wondering at the innuendo. Ben simply kept his arms across his chest and allowed himself the luxury of staring at the ass she claimed wasn’t perfect.

Pert, sweet, curved. Had she been interested, he’d love to get his hands on that sweet ass, massage the tension out after a good workout. Or after a good fuck.

He wasn’t picky.

“Six more. Go.” he said, in a tone similar to that he’d used with new recruits and watched for a reaction.

Yep, there it was. A darkening of her eyes for that brief second she allowed him to see them. Sweet lips parted in shock.

“Let’s go, don’t you wimp out on me now. Two more.”

Did she like taking orders? He could play this game.

“Good. Rest.”

And in a move that would have anyone else cowering, he closed the distance between them, towering above her, looking down at her bent head, knowing full well she tracked his movements in the mirror.

With a slow deliberate movement, he trailed both hands just outside her arms. Not touching, not just yet.

“Give me the weights,” he murmured, leaning down just a tiny bit, just enough to have his breath wash over her hair.

And dark satisfaction shot through him when saw her shiver.

“On your back.”

He enjoyed the way her gaze flew to his, the way her mouth parted, the way she swallowed. The way delicate color enfused her cheeks before she looked down agin.

Then he was the one fucked because she laid down on the padded bench and Ben really had to hold himself from taking her slim calf into his paw, wondering how her skin would feel like.

“Knee to your chest, left leg straight. Hold.”

With her eyes closed, he could study her freely. The freckles he could’ve kissed down to where her collar left her shoulder bare. The honey gold skin. The delicate shadows of her eyelashes. Would she look like thats sleeping after he’d make her come several times?

“Break’s over. Up.”

He took her through more sets,all of them involving weights and glutes and balance. And despite the sheen of sweat, the gasps for breath, and the admittedly hard stack for a beginner, he had to give thisbird respect because she didn’t complain, didn’t whine, didn’t talk back.

Just followed his commands, asking him to clarify if something didn’t make sense, her gaze most of the time hidden behind her lashes.

“Ready to kick?”

He needed to finish and send her on her way. And jerk off in the nearest shower.

She nodded, and after taking some water—he couldn’t help but trace the delicate line of her throat while she drank—followed him back into the mirrored space of the group classes.

“Have you done martial arts before?”

Once again, he caught her glance before jerking her face back down. Playing shy, are we? Poor little bird. Well, he was the consummate professional. She’d have to make the first move if she wanted anything beyond the training.

“In college,” she said, her voice soft. Timid. As if she hadn’t watched him jerking off and stalked him only to decide she didn’t want the monster after all.

“Let’s see what you got,” he all but growled, and grabbed one of the forearm pads.

High kicks—obviously for aerobics then for power, but she wasn’t here to learn to fight.

“Five more.”

He took the hits, his gut wallowing in this useless anger.

“Eight roundhouses.”

“Eight front kicks, go.”

She did each one, her focus on the pads, her hits light but her aim solid. Ben pushed for more and she didn’t complain. And at his bark for back kicks, she overstepped and with a thin grunt fell foward, right into his chest.

Fuck, she felt good. He could hold like this for eons, his arms around her slim torso. Her own small palms splayed on his chest, fingers lightly flexing.

Yeah, she knew the game. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“All right?” So what if his voice came out too low?

She didn’t look up at him, damp tendrils caressing that bare patch of skin where he neck flowed beautifully into her shoulder. Fuck, he just wanted to taste.

“I think...”

He could barely make out her voice.

“I think I twisted my ankle.”

So that’s the way she wanted to play it.

“Poor little thing,” he crooned and brought her closer, trapping her against his body. “I’ll just have to kiss and make it better.”

The reaction? Priceless. Wide blown eyes, mouth open in shock. He would’ve leaned to kiss her save for the very firm knuckle right under his throat.

“What the hell,” a furious whisper, “are you about?”

Masks off, he thought. “Isn’t that what you wanted? Isn’t that why you came here? For me?”

She blinked for a few minutes, pushed away from him and stumbled back.

Good acting, she even thought of not putting weight on her supposedly sprained leg.

“Is that... you thought...”

The flush on that gold skin looked too delicious. Too bad she wanted nothing from him but a single don’t-look-at-him fuck.

“You thought I was an idiot? That I haven’t seen you watching me? Every night, sweetheart. Did you like the show?”

“I... I ... I didn’t know—“

“You didn’t know I worked here? That you showed up and sweet talked Poe into having me do a private lesson? Come on. Tell me the truth.” He advanced, and again, how hot was it she didn’t back down?

Instead she kept her gaze on his, the flush growing deeper on that delicate gold skin, the freckles darker now.

“Admit it, little bird. You don’t like my face, but you want me fuck you. Well...” He spread his arms out. “Here I am.”

She blinked at him, a poor shy thing called out.

“I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Sure.”

Her breath hitched, and fuck, was that.. were there tears in those hazel colored eyes?

“I didn’t know you worked here.” Except instead of shaking, her voice came out firm, strong. Powerful. As if dignity was a shroud she puled around her shoulders to hide that sweet vulnerable self. “I apologize for making you uncomfortable. Have a good evening.”

She a move to hobble away from him, and fuck, she really was limping.

And since Ben lost all semblances of control, he grabbed her arm.

“Where the hell you think you’re-“

He didn’t finish.

Couldn’t

Because a fist rammed in his jaw, surprising him enough to let her go.

“You’re an asshole. ”

And with those whispered words, she pushed through the glass doors and limped toward reception past the treadmills.

Fuck.

_FUCK!_

Panic closed over his chest. At point, he had no idea if he should go, or leave her the hell alone, or maybe send apology flowers like Han did with his mother.

“What the hell did you do?”

Poe was already in the room, pushing an exasperated hand into his hair. “She looked mad. Did you piss her off? Did you go all Ben Solo on her?”

“I... “Seriously, he couldn’t breathe. He’s been through literal hell. He thought he died several times. Having this girl turn her back on him rendered him frozen.

“Go after her, you moron.”

****

****

She wasn’t crying.

Nope, she was too mad to cry. Mortified even. Served her right too, she should’ve known better then coming here after realizing who her new trainer would be.

Fucking _Ben_ who turned out to be a royal arse.

And her damned ankle hurt, to add insult to injury.

So no, Rey didn’t cry. Instead, all that anger, all that mortification got channeled into one single focus: get her ass home. She could cry later in the shower. The she would binge GalaxyWars and emergency RockyRoad she hid in the back of the freezer for emergencies.

And when a mountain of a man caught up to walk in step with her—slowing down to match her pace—she just kept walking.

“Hey.”

Nope, she sure as hell didn’t need to answer.

“Are you okay?”

_Peachy. Fine. Dandy._

“You’re limping.”

_Thank you Captain Obvious._

“Could you please stop for a second?”

A hand reached out, but he clearly thought better then to grab her arm again. “Just. Stop. Okay? You’re clearly in pain.”

“And your’e clearly an asshole.”

“We established that already.”

But since her freaking ankle did actually throb, Rey did slow down.

“What do you want?” Yeah, cool and calm.

“At risk of getting punched again, can I please carry you home?”

This had her stopping in tracks. “It wasn’t enough to embarrass me? You need to make me feel like an idiot too?”

And since she was pissed and fucking hurt, she didn’t care how beautiful he was and looked straight at him, right at that gorgeous face. Brutal features softened by that incredible sensual mouth. Strong nose, deep brown eyes she could get lost in.

And when he pushed his fingers through his hair, she couldn’t help but notice just how large his hand was.

_Too damned bad._

“Look, I’m fucking sorry. I .. guess I’m still pissed off about the scar.”

And because he sounded both angry and miserable, and because she heard that note of hurt, she opened her mouth and instead of telling him to go hell, uttered, “What about your scar?”

The look on his face? Misery.

“Isn’t that why you can’t even look at me? I thought you followed me to the gym, and then you saw it...” He shrugged and crossed his arms. “Either way, I was a shithead. I’m sorry.”

Rey blinked for several long moments, and forced herself to look at him. Right at the scar. “I think you’re beautiful,” she whispered and felt the flush creeping over her cheeks, down her neck, probably blooming down her entire body.

And with that dark gaze locked on hers, she didn’t look away.

“Maybe I please,” he cleared his throat when his voice broke, “May I please carry you home?”

Her—and his—apartment were another block away. Her ankle throbbed. And maybe... hell, other places throbbed too.

“Why?”

He frowned, as if not understanding.

“Why do you want to?” Was he scared she’d get him fired?

“Maybe I think you’re beautiful too.”

Oh.

_Oh._

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

And then she was scooped up into his his embrace, and in reflex she threw an arm around his neck. “Christ!”

He smelled... amazing. Even sweaty, he smelled like man and pine and leather and it took everything for Rey not to bury her nose in his neck and take a long good sniff.

“Did I hurt you?”

Was there panic in his voice?

“Um.” There it was again. _Words, Rey._ “It’s fine. Not used to being this far from the ground.”

“Okay. Just.. hold on.”

That’s it, no other words. Which was probably good, because she didn’t think she could carry on a conversation. The scent of him enveloped her senses, and despite the embarrassment, despite the throb in her ankle, she let herself discreetly burrow into his neck and contemplate being brave enough to bite him.

She didn’t of course. Because as much as she loved this new found kink of being carried, he did it because of his job, and not because he wanted some creepy stranger.

So Rey enjoyed the strength and warmth of him carrying her through the falling night until the loss of movement pulled her out of her reverie.

“Um.. Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Gently, slower then she expected, he set her on her feet, or foot rather, hands on her arms keeping her from falling. Thank god for the darkening skies because the blush probably went down to her knees.

“Um.” There it was again. “Well.. see you.”

“You’re on the third floor?”

Did he think she wanted him to carry her moronic ass upstairs? “There’s the elevator. I’ll see you later.”

“Hey. Rey?”

He probably was worried about his job. “Listen, it’s fine. Can we just... can weforget that happened?”

Why did he look like a lost puppy?

“Sure.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Then. “See you around, Rey.”

Why did she feel like shit watching him leave?

He was an asshole. An asshole who carried her home bridal style (and if she thought back about it, she blushed all over again), and didn’t say a single thing when she didn’t invite himup.

Did she completely fuck this up?

Once home, she iced her ankle, showered. And as she was about to close the blinds before settling down to work, she saw a strip of paper on the top portion his window, leaving the bottom portion bare. The words in thick black ink could’ve been a study in calligraphy.

_I’m sorry._

***

She hadn’t closed her curtains. That was a good sign, although a sign of _what_ Ben had no idea.

He royally fucked this up, to the point where he had no idea if anything could fix it. And for once in his fucking life, he actually did want to fix it.

Flowers? Han always sent flowers after doing something stupid, and for a long time, he thought his old man was a fool. Now?

Fuck.

He made the order for an arrangement of peach roses—gold and pink like her skin—to be delivered first thing in the morning. And only hesitated for a few seconds logging into the member profiles of the gym to look up her apartment number, since technically he knew where she lived.

Since her blinds were still up, did that mean she wanted theirarrangement to continue? At this point, he would settle for crumbs. And so Ben kept the lights off at his place as it got close to ten when their “usual” time started.

And as he glanced up to her window once again, calling himself a fool, he saw a spec of light.

And all his blood drained down south.

She was there.

Lit by pale blue light.

No laptop. No Table.

Just...

Fuck him.

Her. In a chair. In something long and silky that parted to reveal that glowing skin. Tendrils of hair over her shoulders, curling above her breasts, teasing him.

And small palms rubbed something glistening and brutally erotic over her collarbone before dissapearing under the fabric.

He nearly shot his load right then and there.

No... that wasn’t possible. He blinked several times, trying to accertain if this was some sort of a hallucination. Snoke sometimes snuck weird experimental drugs into his food, forcing him to...

No, he didn’t need to think about that. That part of his life had ended, he was free.

Free to look.

Free to yearn.

Free to grip the windowsill (and not his own aching cock) watching her slowly rub what looked like oil on her skin, her robe keeping her modesty by a mere inches.

What the fuck was she playing at?

No laptop to keep her partially hidden this time, just soft blue glow caressing those delicate features.

She was mouthing something. He couldn’t quite make out what she was saying, but ... were her eyes closed? She was leaning back on whatever she sat on and mouthing something, repeating the words. Singing? Her body seemed seemed to sway in some sort of rhythm.

Was she..

Fuck, was she trying to kill him?

The answer had to be a resounding yes because two knees rose up above the windowpane, the silky rob seeming to fall straight down, probably leaving her bare going by the indication of her not wearing anything else. Bare but not visible.

And she clearly moaned as those delicate hands disappeared from view.

The way Ben figured, he had two choices.

He could fist his cock while he watched.

Or...

***

The determined banging on the door startled Rey into opening her eyes as Halestorm snarled about getting off.

And cue the humiliation because he wasn’t in the window, watching her.

_Well. Fool me twice._

The banging on her door continued, probably that red headed prissy neighbour below who complained about her “jumping around” and loud music in the middle of the night.

With a sigh, she tabled the fresh mortification belted her robe and hobbled to the front door.

“Look, Mr Hux, I’m... Ben?”

“What the hell,” he said, those dark eyes so intent on hers, he looked as if he could eat her alive, “are you doing?”

She felt the flush take over her skin, the heated wave sweeping over every inch of her.

And... the way his eyes roamed over her, hungry, so hungry, the heat arrowed straight between her legs, her core still aching from having been interrupted.

“Um.” She said. _Brilliant._

“You’re playing with fire, little bird.”

But he stayed in the threshold, not coming in, not forcing himself into her space.With pants tented by an impressive erection. With his jaw clenched, his body drawn up tight.

And that fact that she had this power over him went straight to her head.

“I figured you deserved a little tit for tat.”

“Yeah?” Was his voice this velvety earlier? Maybe there was shame in admitting she got hot and bothered by the barking orders, but this whispered intensity lashed her senses with heat. “I haven’t seen any tit yet.”

_Don’t um, don’t um, don’t um._

“Um.” Way to be sexy Rey. “Maybe if you stayed where you were—“

“ I hoped to get a closer view.”

More heat. And embarrassment. And power. All those emotions swirled in her head and arrows deep into her belly.

“Is that why you’re here?”

He looked like he was shaking. Then again, she felt it too.

“If you’d let me. Yeah.”

“My ass is sore. My ankle hurts.” Regret flickered over his features. “What are you gonna do about that?”

Her breath left in a blur of motion. He moved so fast she almost shrieked but his mouth was on hers, devouring, teasing, taking. A clash of lips and teeth and need, and even as she lost herself, Rey knew they were moving, her body somehow wrapped around his.

Then... falling, a short moment, and she was plastered over him, straddling him, those large hands kneading the muscles of her ass.

And since he was so close, since she regretted not doing so early, she pushed her face into his neck and bit his throat just like she wanted.

The answering growl nearly sent her over the edge.

“Little bird,” he murmured right against her ear, teeth scraping over the sensitized skin. Those magic hands slid over her rear, lifting her, parting her. Squeezing. “Not so shy after all.”

Not now.

And not with him.

Somehow she managed to tear off his clothes, feast her senses on all that skin, tracing kisses over his scars and moles and wounds. Later, much later, she would ask about them. For now, she wordlessly let him know that he was beautiful.

And when he switched their positions and tugged open her robe, he let her know the same.

Heat.

Worship.

“Do you have any idea,” he murmured between nips and licks and kisses, “What you do to me? I nearly exploded watching you just now.”Lips on her collarbone, her breasts, her belly. “What were you rubbing on yourself?” His turn to take a long audible sniff, then push his nose into her belly. “Smells incredible.”

“Um.”

She really needed to get better at this talking thing.

“Dry body oil. In my office.”

“Be right back.” And then he stood, giving her that same look he gave her in the gym, the look that had her quivering. “Don’t move okay?”

She had just enough sense to exhale and try to jump start her mush of a brain when he came back. “Smells much better on you,” he said and settled between her thighs. And since she could only gape at him, he brushed his lips over her mouth. “Are you sore, litte bird?”

She nodded.

Watched him pour the oil into those massive beautiful hands. Then...

Then...

Those hands were on her now, kneading, massaging, worshiping her breasts, her sides, her belly. And then he lifted up her thigh and clucked his tongue. “Poor little thing. I really worked you hard today.”

Hands on her thighs, warm pressure, bliss, moving closer and maddeningly slow where she fluttered, aching, empty. And since she couldn’t seem to find the words, Rey simply spread her knees.

“So beautiful.”

The praise?

Perfection.

His mouth on her, blowing on her clit?

Sparks of sheer bliss.

Slow first, delicate. Languid sweeps of his tongue, learning her, those dark eyes cataloguing every shiver, ever reaction. And when he slid those long fingers inside and curved and stroked and pumped, the spasms of pleasure had her arching off the couch in a drawn out scream.

“Good girl.” And that, whispered against her folds sent her crashing into the waves of an oncoming orgasm.

She must’ve screamed or moaned, or something loud because the unmistakable sound of something knocking on her floor pierced her sense as her breaths evened out.

Opening her eyes, she found him watching her. Just watching her, with those soft soulful eyes.

“Okay?”

She could only nod as the banging on her floor continued.

“Neigbour?”

Another nod. At least no “um” this time.

He placed a kiss just above where she throbbed. “Delicious.”

“Um.”

Delicious but not eloquent. “Your turn?”

Did he just shudder? “Are you sure? We don’t have to—“

“Remember, tit for tat?”

“My tat,” they both snickered, “takes getting used to.”

To which the only answer was, “We’ll see.”

Then foil, snap of latex. And that glorious hardness pressed against her, into her, and maybe he was right, maybe she did need to get used to him, but...

God.

Holy god.

He sank right in, filling her with heat, pleasure, his scent.

“Okay?” He asked again through gritted teeth, and since he stole her breath, she thought it would be only fair to bite him.

So she did.

His movements left her breathless. Slow rhythmic strokes, filling her to the brink of ecstasy, pulling out only to consume her once again. Arms under her, around her, cradling her, using her as an anchor for his thrusts. Her hands were free to touch him, running over his shoulders, his arms, reaching to grip that tight behind.

“Harder.”

His forehead rested over hers. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She clenched her fluttering core around him. “Harder. Please.”

And whatever he read in her eyes must’ve given him the answer because he reared up, lifted her thighs so that the back of her knees rested over his elbows and bent her in half.

Rey would’ve screamed except she had no air. She would’ve cried except she couldn’t close her eyes. He loomed above her, a dark angel of pleasure, snapping his hips into her without mercy, hard, fast strokes, and she couldn’t do anything but take those thrusts, take him inside her until his rhythm escalated and they shattered, both of them flying apart, both of them watching each other, both of them collapsing into each other’s arms.

More knocking, this time with more vigor. Rey buried her head in his neck and snorted out a laugh.

“Don’t move,” she heard and had to groan when he pulled out, tied off the condom. Then air, cool on her skin, sending shivers down her spine as he left her, only to come back and hoist her up again.

“Bedroom?”

“Right there.”

She loved being in his arms. Loved having him cart her around. When he laid her on the bed, standing beside her with uncertainty over his features, she lifted up her arms in invitation.

And felt him hardening beside her once again.

“Again?”

“Have you _seen_ you?”

Oh.

She felt the flush building again, and would’ve hid her face against his shoulder. “Don’t hide. Please. Not with me.”

She flattened her palm over his still pounding heartbeat, then slid her hand to cup his jaw. And ran a featherlight fingertip over his cheek.

“Will you tell me? After”

His turn to hide his gaze. “It’s a long story.”

She shifted so she could rise above him, touching her lips to his. “I got plenty of time.”


End file.
